Message for the Messenger
by Boho-Indie Queen
Summary: Hades is rather surprised to find Hermes in his palace so late at night. However, he's not very surprised by the reason. Bonding. Basically Uncle!Hades and Nephew!Hermes. Takes place some time after The Last Olympian. R&R. Enjoy!


**A/N: Hey guys! It's been forever since I've written anything and all of a sudden this just popped into my head. I always thought these two would have a different relationship because I think a lot of people forget Hermes was/is a chthonic god, so I'm sure they're quite acquainted with each other. I hope you guys like it and review! Enjoy!**

Message for the Messenger

Hades' heels clicked monotonously along the dark marble floor. He tightened the tie of his robe as he descended the long staircase and momentarily regretted the action; his injured ribs did not agree with being held so compactly. A few loose strands of his disheveled hair fell in front of his eyes and he brushed them away, running his fingers through the mane, attempting to smooth the knots. He had to look at least decently presentable to his unannounced guest.

His steps were swift and silent, but abruptly stopped when he eyed the messenger standing in his personal foyer; seems he skipped the formalities. Hermes rocked back and forth snapping his fingers softly in agitation. He was haphazardly clothed in a t-shirt that was at least two-sizes-too-big, a pair of jeans that must have been to hell and back, sneakers of similar styles but different colors entirely, and a leather jacket that was possibly the only acceptable piece in the entire ensemble; it was as thought he had dressed in the dark…blindfolded. The wings of his shoes fluttered anxiously as the herald noticed the god of the dead.

"I—I know it is v—very late, my lord, but I…" Hermes croaked.

Hades had by this time reached bottom of the stairs and was now approaching the boy. Upon further inspection he noted how weary he looked. His complexion was ashen and the pockets beneath his eyes were bruised. He kept licking his dried lips and blinking more than necessary. Hades would have felt pity, but he knew the god would not appreciate the sentiment.

"It is still summer," he said casually; the messenger's behavior intrigued him. "Persephone is above with her mother again. A little company may be…pleasant."

"Thank you, Uncle," he murmured under his breath as he followed the lord to his study.

Hermes practically fainted into the seat presented to him as Hades gracefully slid into his. He watched the boy with an odd mixture of worried curiosity and cold wonder as he placed two short glasses on the table and poured nectar in equal proportions into them. Troubled blue momentarily met masked black before Hermes downed the sweet juice in one go. Hades raised a dark brow, slightly impressed.

"Do you happen to have anything stronger?" Hermes asked gruffly, waving the glass a little.

Hades eyed him warily before reaching down into one of his desk drawers and gently placing a bottle of whiskey on the dark wooden table. He graciously took the bottle and watched as the amber drink filled his glass. He relished the alcohol on his taste buds and the smoothness as it slid down his throat.

"It's Canadian, eh?" he joked halfheartedly.

Hades had the decency to crack a smile before pouring some into his own glass. He held the glass delicately and swirled the whisky slowly. "How have you been? Are your wounds healing fine?"

Hermes rubbed his thigh self-consciously, feeling the bandages. "As well as I can be and, yes, thanks to my brother. You, my lord?"

_Really?_ he thought as he replied, "I as well have been faring alright, I suppose. Business as usual down here as you know."

Hermes' lips twitched as he sighed through his nose. He turned his head to scan across the tapestries absentmindedly, cupping his cheek in his hand and resting his elbow on the armrest.

As he did this, Hades watched the god in fascination. Oh, how he remembered all those millennia ago when the god was just a babe, still a boy and not yet a man when he was brought to be his herald. Now there were crinkles around his eyes when he squinted or smiled and he could read all the years in his eyes, every moment both good and bad.

Hades groaned inwardly. If this was what he could see in one of the youngest gods, he could only imagine what others saw in him. He was starting to feel his age. He warily ran a hand through his locks and over his face. He needed another drink.

"…My purpose in being here was to ask you a question…" Hermes admitted apprehensively.

Hades' features fell solemnly. "And I have a curious feeling I know what it pertains to."

Hermes seemed to visibly pale. "I just… I want…"

He swallowed back the tightness in his throat, but to no avail. The need to crawl away and forget about this night was strong in his bones. The god in front of him sensed it and leaned forward with his chin perched on his clasped hands.

"Why was that Luke boy your pride and joy?" Hades breathed.

Hermes seemed taken aback by the abrupt question. He hid his eyes behind his thick lashed. His fingers curled tightly into his jeans.

"Because I knew," he whispered miserably, "and I thought… I thought it would all turn out alright…with him alive… I thought everything would change before…before he… I failed him."

Hades watched as the god regressed into a boy and contorted into something sad. His head hung low and his hands lay limp in his lap. Hades took another sip and swirled the whisky around. He abruptly slammed the glass on the desk and swallowed. Hermes' head snapped up so fast Hades could have sworn he heard his neck crack. Hades smoothly stood.

"Walk with me," he murmured softly as he strode out the door.

The hurried footsteps of his nephew made the corner of his lips twitch. Within a matter of moments their steps were in sink, their gaits languid and steady. Hades' breathing was slow and shallow while Hermes' was uneasy and deep.

At last Hades spoke, "How long have I known you?"

Hermes' steps faltered and seemed genuinely perplexed. "Um, is that a trick question?"

Hades halted causing Hermes to walk into him. He turned his head and looked over his shoulder disbelievingly. He was met with wide blue eyes staring unblinkingly up at him.

"No," he deadpanned, "it's not a trick question."

He continued walking quickly followed by the messenger who hummed thoughtfully. "Practically all my life."

"Then wouldn't I know if you were a failure or not?"

He heard an audible gulp. "I suppose…"

"You suppose?" He quirked a brow and stopped again. He turned on his heels to face Hermes. "Hermes, you are looking at a god who has fathered more dictators than I can count on my fingers and you call yourself a failure for one boy who made things right in the end… Do you see where I see error in your judgment?"

The blue orbs lowered their gaze and mumbled like a scolded child, "Yes."

He looked up is surprise when he felt an assuring squeeze on his shoulder. Even Hades seemed taken aback by his sudden gesture. He recoiled and shoved his hands in the pockets of his robe.

"I was, um…" He cleared his throat and swallowed. "I was at Luke's judgment—" he watched Hermes' face intently— "and I heard him explain everything… And after everything was said and done, he asked me to give you this one message."

The herald's face dropped expectantly. He tightened his lips into a thin line and he braced himself.

Hades' features softened as he said, "Nothing was ever your fault and he understood…and that despite what you may think…he really did know you loved him—" He breathed out a small chuckle. "—he was just too stubborn to see."

It was as if Hermes had suddenly become limp as he fell forward into Hades. The lord of the dead was so shocked he nearly dropped the boy before the messenger tightly gripped his uncle in an embrace. He leaned his forehead on the dark god's shoulder as his frame shook with sobs. Hades blinked a couple times, not sure what to do; Hermes had pinned his upper arms. After a moment of contemplation, he awkwardly returned the gesture.

They stood like that for several minutes until Hermes quickly pulled away and rubbed his eyes. He straightened his clothing as he took a deep breath and looked at his uncle with bloodshot eyes. His lips quivered, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Thank you, Uncle," he sighed, every ounce of worry slipping off his body.

Hades allowed the corners of lips to curve farther than they had all night. "Of course."

_Anything for my favorite nephew_, he thought. Not that he'd ever admit it aloud.


End file.
